My Diary: The Buildings Of My Imagination Like Skeletons Playing Games

June went out the door with her legs pushed through the hull of a small boat‭ ‬-‭ ‬I said she would sink before we both flew to the railway station.‭ ‬Here we met a family of little birds‭ ‬-‭ ‬one of which,‭ ‬I joked,‭ ‬looked like a little cat.‭ ‬I watched the train dissolve like a water soluble Aspirin before climbing up the embankment balancing as many pieces of Mayan architecture on my head as possible.‭ ‬The dog and I walked each other to the disused cottage and back:‭ ‬at night I would imagine wistful faces looking out but in daylight all I could see was a featureless emptiness.‭ ‬On my return I worked like a nurse in my wounded studio:‭ ‬a landscape materialising within a portrait‭ ‬-‭ ‬among brightly coloured flowers,‭ ‬broken branches suggested the buried bones of Black Death victims from Europe during the Middle Ages.

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